


The most important of lessons

by diabla616



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-24
Updated: 2011-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-26 12:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diabla616/pseuds/diabla616
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carver wants to learn about sex. Who better to teach him than his experienced older brother?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The most important of lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kink meme once more. Possibly the most explicit thing I've ever written.

Carver is fourteen, his brother nearing sixteen when he first stumbles upon his brother's preferences. Or lack therof.

He's used to seeing his brother emerge from the stables, ruffled and self-satisfied with a pretty girl in tow, and this latest seems normal enough for Garrett that it's almost a non-event. Until he realises later that it hadn't been a pretty girl following Garrett this time, but the ne'er-do-well son of a local arl. They never speak of it, of course, but Carver's almost certain that Garrett _knows_ what he's seen. It has no real relevance to his own life, Carver thinks, so he feels no need to _discuss._

Until he begins to realise that his _own_ preferences tend more towards attractive young men than pretty girls.

Two years pass; frustrating, lonely years Carver finds. He's neither Garrett's natural charm nor his lack of shame, and any attempt at courtship of his own leaves him horribly embarrassed and lonelier than before.

It takes a while; _plans_ aren't exactly Carver's strength unless he's following them, but eventually he begins to think. Garrett is good at this, charming witty and experienced. Surely Garrett could teach him what to do?

"Show me what it's like"

Garrett, to his credit, doesn't feign ignorance, nor does he offer excuses. He merely refuses.  
"No, Carver."

Months pass.  
They've never been truly close, a fact which isn't helped by their parents pushing him to be more like Garrett, but in the following months Carver grows ever more distant from his brother. For his part, Garrett, never the most attentive of siblings, seems to go out of his way to ignore Carver in favour of gratification from pretty girls and handsome young men instead.

Carver resents his brother more with every man and woman Garrett charms into his bed.

Eventually rumours begin to circle; rumours of a darkspawn threat in the south, of the King's army recruiting. These rumours, like all others, reach Carver via Garrett. This time it's Garrett's complaints he hears. Mages after all have no place in the King's army, especially not illegal ones.  
 _Warriors_ do, however.

His family's reaction is no surprise; tears from his mother, pride mixed with concern from Bethany, and grudging respect from his father.  
Only Garrett's reaction is unexpected, "impressive, brother," he says later, "be sure to return to us in one piece though, won't you?"

Buoyed by this unexpected show of support Carver does something he hasn't for years, since before Garrett became such an impossible ideal, he pulls his brother into an embrace.

When they pull apart finally, Garrett beaming and Carver fighting the urge to scuff his boots to avoid the awkwardness, Garrett says softly,  
"You asked me to show you something once brother,"  
That startles Carver's attention away from his boots, though his mouth is too dry, his pulse racing too fast that he can't bring himself to meet Garrett's eyes.  
"Do you still want to know what it's like?"

 _Now_ Carver does look at his brother, and the sight is a revelation in itself. There's no trace of the mocking smirk he's so used to seeing on his brother's face, no trace of a smile at all. Instead his expression is intensely serious.  
"Yes, please."

Carver has had neither inclination nor excuse to enter his brother's room for years now, since they were both young boys only newly introduced to the heady honour of seperate rooms. Garrett's room is sparse, but little different. There are perhaps more books, and fewer clothes scattered across the floor.  
The one prominent piece of furniture in the room is Garrett's bed; it's large, of course, and ornate. The wooden headboard stands out in the centre of the room, reminding Carver of the stocks at Summerday festivals past. Somehow he'd always ended up locked in them.

The sight of Garrett's bed is jarring. Carver's stomach starts to roll in anticipation, even as other parts of his anatomy start to take interest. His body, it seems, can't decide whether to be nervous or thrilled by this new development.

"Maker's breath Carver, shut the door at least", Garrett sighs.  
Feeling suitably chastised Carver slides the wooden bolt home. Garrett acknowledges him with a nod, then disappears behind a flimsy partition. His bathroom, or what passes for it, Carver assumes.

Garrett reappears soon with a small vial of oil, shooting Carver a triumphant wink as he holds it up for Carver to see. Carver however is too nervous, his pulse pounding in his ears and his stomach rolling, to manage his usual disapproval of Garret's flamboyance. Instead he stays where he is, sat on Garrett's bed with his fingers curling nervously into the coverlet.

It doesn't take long for Garrett to notice Carver's expression, and then the triumphant smile soon fades from his own. When he does notice, Garrett sinks to his knees in front of Carver's position, his hand falling to rest on Carver's thigh.  
Garret has nice hands, Carver notes absently, soft hands, without the callouses and scars his own have from years of fighting.  
"You know, brother,"  
Carver's attention snaps back into focus when Garrett speaks again,  
"if you don't want to do this then now would be the time to say something."

Carver can't quite manage to _say_ anything; he's still too tense, too tightly-wound to speak, though he does manage to nod emphatically enough that Garrett smiles at him, and pulls softly on his tunic.  
"Then I think you need to be less _dressed,_ brother."

 

Carver has never considered himself shy. Though he may not have Bethany's innate self-confidence, nor Garrett's total lack of shame, _shy_ is not a word he's ever believed applied to him.  
He's seen both his siblings in various states of undress and alternately been seen by both in the same states too, no room for modesty or pride in so small a house as theirs, though it's never been quite like this. Carver feels the blush creep over his cheeks as Garrett's eyes take in his nakedness in the fading light from the fireplace.

Garrett moves to kneel next to him on the bed, his hand moving absently to stroke the full length of Carver's thigh now. When he next speaks it's in soft, soothing tones, as if he were dealing with a wounded mabari. Though Carver can't quite muster any indignation at such treatment when he realises that Garrett's ploy is working.

"Lay back," Garrett murmurs, and Carver obeys willingly, sinking into the soft covers, as he feels the tension drain further from his muscles.

Garrett's hand slides _between_ his legs now, not touching, not yet, merely suggesting. Carver allows his knees to fall open, relaxed as he is by Garrett's soft reassurances.  
It no longer feels strange, being naked for his brother's benefit, in his current position Carver feels a thrill at the illicitness of it all.

 

The oil is cold, and Garrett's finger intrusive, though not uncomfortable. Carver can't convince himself to care however. He's on the edge of a world which he's never before been privy to, and it's thrilling. Even more so perhaps to have his brother's gentle guidance for such an occasion.  
And, though it seems strange to think of his brother as gentle in any situation, in this he _is_ ; Garrett's words are soft, reassuring, and his movements slow and sure. Carver's body responds enthusiastically to this unorthodox lesson.

 

"This is important," Garrett tells him, still in that soft, intended-to-calm tone. Carver feels a second finger enter him alongside the first, silencing the gasp which that action almost provokes.  
"Whichever role you eventually find you prefer, this is important." As he speaks he's making small scissoring motions with his fingers, and despite the residual _intrusive_ feeling, it's slightly pleasurable, Carver finds.  
"you see, without correct preparation this can be painful, and no matter whether you're hurting or being hurt, it's not something you want to risk. It significantly reduces the chances you'll be doing this again"  
Carver's eyes drift closed as his body relaxes even further, making _slightly_ pleasurable more so even.  
"And that would be a pity indeed," Garrett continues, "because this can feel _fantastic_ ," at that he curls his fingers, hitting _something_ which makes Carver shudder. His hips jerk upwards with a yelp of surprise, and when he chances a look at Garrett there's a small smile on his face.

"That's your prostate," Garrett informs him, " _that_ is what makes the whole experience worthwhile."  
After that Garrett mercifully falls silent, though Carver assumes it's more to listen to just how laboured his breathing is becoming. He's hard too, has been for a while, and his cock twitches in appreciation with every brush of Garrett's fingers against his prostate.

When Garrett slides a third finger in Carver wants nothing more than to reach down and wrap his hand around himself, to bring himself to orgasm there and then. To do such a thing however, under his brother's scrutiny seems odd, even here, even _now_. Instead he bites his lips in an ineffective attempt to silence the whimpers he can't quite control, as he feels his brother bring him closer to completion, though far too slowly for Carver's current state of mind.

This is almost too much, every thrust of Garrett's fingers brushes them against his prostate, making it impossible to remain quiet. He's vaguely aware that he's making the most embarrassing noises he's ever heard; breathy noises halfway between moans and whimpers, but he can't seem to stop, or do anything but buck his hips and arch into every single one of Garrett's touches.

Soon though Garrett stops. Carver can't quite fight back the groan of protest, but his brother doesn't move, he starts to talk once more;  
"You think this feels good Carver? Just imagine how good it will feel when it's no longer fingers inside you, but a hard cock. _My_ hard cock."  
Eventually, after the haze of _want_ that comment provokes has cleared somewhat, Carver realises that Garrett is asking permission. Any pretence, any self-deception that this is anything less has long evaporated, and Garrett is asking permission to-  
" _Please_ " he chokes out. Garrett's only response is a small, hungry sound.

He's always known, of course, that his brother is attractive. In Carver's memory, however, all this has ever meant is another comparison between the two where he's no hope of matching up to his sainted big brother. _Now_ it feels different; now, as Garrett shrugs off his robes revealing tanned skin and taut muscles, impressive for any man, let alone for a mage, all he feels is lucky.

Of course, Garrett is larger than him in all respects, and despite the oil and Garrett's lengthy preparations, there's more than a little pain when Garrett finally enters him. Carver bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood to hide his wince, but Garrett notices anyway.  
"Ssh, it will get better soon, I promise."  
At that Garrett brushes his thumb over Carver's lip, with the slightest touch of healing magic. Probably the most his brother has ever been able to master, Carver thinks, though the tender gesture distracts him enough that soon enough the pain has passed.

Without pain, the experience is truly as _fantastic_ as Garrett had promised; every thrust has Carver seeing stars, and he's moaning shamelessly too. Any sense of shame has long since disappeared, there's only a haze of pleasure in short, sharp spikes. The urge to touch himself is overwhelming now, and Carver no longer has any idea why it was a bad idea in the first place.  
As he reaches down to stroke himself, however, Garrrett swats his hand away,  
"Let's just see if you need that, huh?"  
And _that_ itself is almost enough to undo him right then; the thought of being driven to orgasm by nothing more than his brother's cock far more thrilling than such a thought has any right to be.

Carver obeys him, however, lifting his hands instead to run his fingers through the fine covering of hair on Garrett's chest. When he chances a look at his brother Garrett appears more thoroughly undone than Carver has ever seen him; his eyes heavy-lidded, and his dark hair in disarray. There's a rush of pride that _he's_ caused that look, not some pretty village girl, or handsome stable-boy. Neither of them looks set to last much longer, Carver is sure, and he closes his eyes once more, closing his eyes to follow the sensations to their conclusion.

As he's gasping and moaning, unable to hold on even a moment more, Carver feels a pair of lips meet his own. Garrett's kiss is soft, but insistant, and when his lips part further to gasp out just how close he is Garrett's tongue slides inside, just the briefest contact with his own, but it's enough. The world fades, and all Carver knows in the moments that follow is the feeling of Garrett following him into ecstasy.

"So," Carver begins, once he's somewhat recovered; lying sated and comfortable in Garrett's bed' "why the change of heart?"  
Garrett's expression flickers with _something_ , but Carver has never been any good at deciphering his brother.  
"You were too young then," Garrett says.  
"Too young to want?" Carver responds, Carver isn't surprised by this, it's the story of his life really; too _young,_ too _immature,_ too _naive,_ ever doomed to be the second son, even if it's him, not Garrett going to Ostagar.  
Garrett gives him an odd look, "no," he says, "too young to know what to want."  
At Carver's frown he continues, "I was going to wait and see if you were going to ask again, but I couldn't let you go off to Ostagar without finding out if you were serious this time."  
"I was serious _last_ time," Carver protests weakly, but he can't quite bring himself to resent the wasted time.

Though he's certain he knows the answer Carver can't help asking, "will we do this again?"  
Garrett rolls onto his side, to face him. Yet again his expression is serious, which doesn't bode well. Carver feels his spirits sink, before Garrett speaks again,  
"Perhaps when you return."  
Carver blinks in surprise. In response to the question which must be evident on his face Garrett nods.  
"I'm sure there's still much to learn."

Three days later when Carver marches into battle at Ostagar his smile has still not fully faded.


End file.
